


Flirty drunk, all for you

by HogwartsToAlexandria



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Thanos, Angry Bones, Awkward Flirting, Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Flirting, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Recreational use of alcohol, Stephen is not amused, oblivious boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2019-12-29 20:05:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18301061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HogwartsToAlexandria/pseuds/HogwartsToAlexandria
Summary: It's the night of a party with the entire crew of the Avengers. Stephen was invited as they left the last battle they'd had to fight side by side. It had been a nice gesture from the Captain. The glint in Tony Stark's eyes had been a nice sight too, but now, now Stephen isn't so sure he's having a very good time after all.





	1. Getting one's head out of the sand

**Author's Note:**

> More Ironstrange, this pairing is taking over my life I swear. Hope you'll like it :)  
> Thank you to my amazing friend SerenaLunera for beta-ing this one and its second chapter...!

A vein is popping at his temple, blood rushing up. His hands are trembling way more than normal and it's all he can do not to tap his fingers on the table. 

Everyone seems to be having a good - drunken, rather - time, and Stephen has decided to hold on, he will not lash out in front of the entire Avengers team. It's hard but he's done harder. 

He can't help but think there's too much alcohol going around still. All these fully grown people growing more and more  _ hammered _ around him as the night goes on. It's unnerving for someone who's sworn off liquor such a long time ago. Or at least Stephen tries to convince himself that that’s why the mild annoyance he was feeling at the beginning of this  _ gathering _ is steadily growing into real, fiery anger. 

It's not. 

Tony Stark is. Damn Tony Stark going around downing shots and singing and dancing in sinful waves atop the discarded cushions of the couch is. Tony idiot Stark straddling every willing - or unconscious enough - lap he can find, dancing still, his body withering along with any tune Jarvis picks to send blasting. Tony Stark, doe-eyed and slurred-voiced, flirting. With seemingly everyone. 

The room is a disaster, people are loud, so loud Stephen is contemplating returning to his room early. And yet he doesn't. He's rooted to his spot at the table, completely oblivious to the senseless babble of Clint and Natasha, ignoring Thor's boisterous party roars, indifferent to the Captain and Barnes’ enthusiastic make-out session. 

His eyes hurt with all the staring he's doing but Stephen couldn't care less. How. How can Stark think it's ok to just grind his ass against every available surface, uncaring of anyone's feelings, uncaring of anything. It's not.

Damn, even DUM-E's lights are flickering with tension. 

The cloak has been wrapping itself tighter and tighter around Stephen's body for the last hour but Stephen only takes notice when the lapels of the garment end up crossing over his lap and  _ tightening _ still, over his crotch -  _ Oh. _

“You okay there, Doc?” 

Of course. Of course Tony would choose this moment to pay attention to Stephen - when his cheeks are reddening by the second, flustered and angry with himself.

And he can't blame anything on alcohol. And Tony knows it. 

How Stephen didn't realize Tony was making his way over to the table instead of sticking to the couch area like he's done since the night started is unexplainable. But there he is, his eyes twinkling in the low light of the room and it seems he knows and that's all so mortifying already, Stephen doesn't know what to do with himself when Tony decides his lap is every bit as good as anyone else’s to sit on. 

The cloak even helps by pushing the chair just a tad, just enough for a second body to slither its way between its back and the edge of the table. Good Lord.

Tony is surprisingly graceful when he's drunk - he's straddling Stephen's lap in no time, his legs bracketing Stephen's thighs and the rhythmic movements of his hips are not helping the sorcerer's present condition one bit. 

“Someone's in a good mood?” Tony whispers and it's just slurred enough to revive Stephen’s anger. 

“Not even close, no.” 

“No?” Tony touches his chest in a dramatic pose, “And here I thought this was for me, pity.” he says but doesn't budge, a small smirk placing itself on his lips when Stephen's eyes narrow in an effort to keep his composure. 

“You flirting with me, Stark?” 

A short-lived silence settles between them before Tony snorts, “I've been for the past year, thank you for noticing.” 

He smiles when he says it, but his eyes don't fool Stephen. Tony's eyes are always so open, so  _ readable _ . Stephen's eyes widen as he registers what the other man just told him. 

“Wh--What?” he sputters, talk of eloquence.

Tony simply nods, the smile still hanging on his lips not managing to hide the slow fear that's creeping its way past every possible shield and barrier he's built to keep others at bay. So it is true. And Stephen had no clue. And he feels like the biggest fool in this dimension and all others. 

“You  _ were _ ?”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs almost wistfully, one of his hands is now stroking the collar of the cloak and it seems the damn thing is  _ preening _ under the attention, “I do not actually make a habit of randomly hanging out with people, seeking them out for lunch and stuff. I do  _ not _ let just anyone in the workshop either. But here we are.” Tony's eyes flicker back to Stephen’s before he continues, taking a deep breath, “So I'm going to kiss you now since it seems you're not only oblivious as fuck but also unable to take hints even when they're as big as you.” 

And he does. And Stephen's boner does not calm down. At all. 

Tony's arms circle Stephen's shoulders and he's leading the dazed man into the most heated kiss he's had in what must be years and Stephen feels something close to an explosion in his chest. Because the longing is over. The painful pining has stopped there, a second ago when their lips first touched. The second-guessing is well and truly reaching its end there, when Tony's fingers find Stephen's hair and his touch is soft, if a little jerky. 

Tony is writhing on his lap, the bulge in his pants never clearer, never more welcome as it meets Stephen's.

No one is paying attention to them but Stephen still stands up, carrying Tony almost effortlessly, retiring to his room two floors up. 

They're kissing all through the time it takes them to get there. They're still kissing when Stephen closes the door with his foot. Tony's moaning against his lips and they're still fully clothed on the bed but they're halfway there anyway, halfway to climax, to abandon. And it would be perfect. 

If only it didn't taste of whiskey and warm beer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was told by Serena that this last line was a little too angsty to end things there, so I wrote a continuation, a second chapter which shall come in a day or two :)  
> Do tell me if you liked this, (pls ;)) reactions give me life and I am oh so very new to these two that I really do treasure comments. xoxo


	2. Getting one's head up to the clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, the second half of this story brought to you per SerenaLunera's request and beta'd by her as well, thank you dear <3

_ If only it didn't taste of whiskey and warm beer.  _

 

The last thought on Stephen's mind when he drifts off to sleep isn't that he regrets what just happened. It isn't, not really. He just hopes Tony will remember it in the morning and not freak out of the bed and never speak to him again. He just blames himself for not recognizing the signs until Tony laid his -  _ their _ \- truth out for him almost too clearly. He just feels guilty he let it happen this way. Because kissing Tony when he's under the influence and clearly isn't fully himself is not what Stephen had in mind in all the times he's pictured this moment. 

He's on the brink of full-on hating and accusing himself of taking advantage of the other man when Tony shuffles even closer in the bed, snoring as he is and the cloak takes it as its cue to fly and settle over the both of them like a blanket. He looks so peaceful and innocent in sleep and Stephen isn't sure he's gonna be able to live with himself if the man wakes up resenting him. 

The way Tony looked at him, all hopes and no calculations, no snark and all fragile joy when he told him he'd been waiting for this for just as long as Stephen had. The way his arms had tightened around him when Stephen moved them to the bedroom, Stephen shudders. It's not like they had done much, he rationalizes. They both came in their pants like teenagers and Stephen is more grateful than he ever thought he would be for the lack of performance this time. This way they can both forget it fairly easily if Tony ends up rejecting him. It's sticky but Stephen doesn't move to clean himself up, he doesn't even try and spell it off of them. He falls asleep with Tony  wrapped around him like a koala, breathing down his neck and only sleep allows Stephen a reprieve from his own disapproving mind. 

He wakes up in a startle and realizes the bed is empty, he's alone and ready to wallow in self-hatred when he sees that even the cloak isn't there. It never leaves his side, let alone when he's sleeping and vulnerable.

Stephen gets up, wincing at the throbbing in his hands. He makes his way out of the room and to the elevator. Sure enough, he finds Tony in the kitchen of the common floor, his nose down in what has to be the largest mug he could find and inhaling his coffee, deep relief settling on his face with every sip. Stephen shuffles into the room, unsure of what to say, unsure of what Tony will say and if he should apologize right away, he doesn't know.

He hovers near the island Tony's sitting at and only when he manages to catch the man's gaze does he realize that the cloak is set right on top of his shoulders, covering him like he's home. If that's a good sign Stephen isn't sure but Tony doesn't seem bothered by it so there's that.

"You going to say something?" Tony asks, breaking the silence with his sleep-laced voice. His face is blank and Stephen feels his heart well and truly sink in his chest.  _ What did he do, why couldn't he have resisted, what can he say-- _

"Hello would be a good start, Doc," Tony goes again, and this time he's winking and Stephen is so confused his mouth hangs open before he shakes it off.

"Good morning, Tony," he says. "I--"

"You're already regretting this, aren't you?" Tony's voice is small but defiant as his gaze pierces a hole where Stephen's face should be. "It's fine, you can say it,  _ I'm sorry, Stark, I don't know why I did it, why I did you, it's best we forget everything about yesterday, you and I could never be a-- _ "

"Shut up, stop talking," Stephen blurts when he catches up with what Tony is saying, with what he is implying, "What--Is that what you think I want? Is that what  _ you _ want?"

Tony frowns at him above his cup before he puts the thing down in front of him, crossing his arms, "Weren't you listening last night? No that's not what I want but that's--" he stops and gestures towards Stephen with his hand, impatiently pointing at him then at himself, "It's fine, I should have known better--"

"But, will you  _ stop _ , it's not-- It's not what I want, it's not what I want at all." Stephen's voice is final and he feels mildly proud of himself for how it didn't waver.

"Oh yeah? Then why the face?" Tony's posture is still guarded, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his chin tipped up.

"The face?" Stephen pinches the bridge of his nose, as if that would be enough to make sense of this whole conversation.

"You were definitely making a face." Tony nods and the cloak follows suit -  _ traitor _ .

"I wasn't-- I thought," Stephen groans at how awkward he feels, "I thought you would be regretting it, I thought you would think I'd taken advantage of you, damn,  _ I  _ think I took advantage of you and you were drunk and maybe you don't want me and why would you and hmph--" 

Stephen doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence, Tony thinks he's heard enough. Their mouths clash together and now they taste of coffee and even though Stephen doesn't drink that either, he thinks he could get used to it. He could, if this kiss means Tony doesn't blame him, if it means he gets to hold the man a while longer, if it means all his daydreaming came to be real, right there, in the punched out sound of Tony's gasp, between their dancing lips, inside the circle of the cloak around them. 

“You idiot,” Tony smiles before he kisses him again. 

“Yeah?” 

It's tentative but Stephen's smile only grows larger with every passing second. Because Tony's looking at him with everything from amusement, to fondness to slight annoyance but nothing, absolutely nothing close to the hate Stephen had in mind. And then it's Stephen’s turn to kiss the smirk off Tony's lips. 

And he thinks coffee is a fine taste, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing for Camp Nanowrimo so expect more content soon! You can follow my progress on tumblr if ever you're interested that is :) I'm HogwartsToAlexandria there as well :)

**Author's Note:**

> Also find me on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hogwartstoalexandria)


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